It always starts with a dull pain at the base of my skull,
just above the nape of my neck. It's like a low-level throbbing that hums away
constantly, always there, never-ending, but like a radio on low volume, it's
easy to ignore most of the time. You learn to tune it out, put it out of your
mind, otherwise you'd go nuts. When your concentration slips and you feel it,
the pain isn't so bad because subconsciously you were expecting it, and have
always expected it. You're used to it. It's not so bad, then.

It's when the variables change that it gets worse. Little
things like someone whistling off-key, or kids shouting in a crowded high
school hallway. Maybe someone chinked their glasses a little too hard together,
or your pal slipped the dial on that radio a few notches higher. The throbbing
seems to spike a little, usually in time to the water drops striking the metal
of the sink, or the drums your next door neighbor just couldn't wait to
practice on. Pain sneaks its sharp little fingers up the back of your skull,
making your head feel heavier. Cracking your neck sometimes helps loosen the
tension but like watching a car wreck in slow motion, you know what's coming next and you can't get it out of your mind. As a
result, rubbing the back of your neck or snapping your head from side to side
gives a few seconds of relief as opposed to an actual cure.

Given enough time those little spiked fingers make their way
to the front of your head, digging their talons into your temples. Suddenly,
just keeping your eyes open is painful, but closing your lids feels like doors
slamming up and down. When they're closed, you see neon lights sparking in
front of you and they move in strange circles that can make you nauseas if you
focus on them for too long. When your eyes are open, the light – natural or artificial
– stabs you like needles, blinding you and sending those little daggers even
deeper into your skull. Your neck is stiff with tension but cracking it sends
mini-shockwaves up and down your spinal cord, making things worse. Especially
now, since your sense of pain isn't like usual, and you do it too hard, and
your face and side of your head goes numb for a few seconds, like you pulled a
muscle, or cracked something you weren't supposed too.

Now, add in a mutant power that uses the mind to control
seismic vibrations. Ever hear of the term a splitting headache?

Sometimes that's what I think is actually happening. On a
good day, I like using my powers in small doses. After all, they're mine – why
shouldn't I get to use them? Tripping up some high-thinking jock in front of
his girlfriend is always good for a laugh, especially when said jock was
usually picking on Toad at some point during the day. And it's
fun scaring the muta-phobe principal we have into
thinking Bayville is on some kind of fault line.

Using my powers like that aggravates that low-level
throbbing I always feel, but it's not that bad, and it's always worth it.

It's when you're forced to use your powers on a scale only
hear about when they're covered by the media in discussing disasters that claim
the lives of hundreds in other countries.

But that splitting headache…when the seismic waves are
pouring on and the school parking lot or maybe the football field has become
like a living creature beneath everyone's feet; when buildings collapse and
dirt and debris shatter in front of you like mini missiles; when your entire
world is shaking uncontrollably and you think you're going to be torn apart
inside, and the sheer power of the vibrations make you bite your tongue and the
taste of copper fills your mouth and dribbles out of your ears and nose….

Yeah…it hurts….

A part of me will probably always want to smile when people
complain of having headaches…for I know I would die to have such a simple pain
like theirs…one that will disappear after a while…one that will be cured by
swallowing one or two aspirin instead of downing half a bottle of codeine…

What would it like to be pain free? Since my powers were
born in that crumbling orphanage years ago, I've never known. I can't even
remember a time when I could smile, laugh with my friends and crank up the
volume without once wincing in pain before I adjust.

Pietro has an idea of what I go through. Sort of. I try to
hide the charming after-affects of my powers from the rest of the Brotherhood,
but having a speed demon in the house means having very little privacy. As fast
as I can wipe a look of pain off my face, Pie's reflexes will have already
caught the look, analyzed it and recorded it for future reference. He hasn't
told Fred or Todd yet – I can tell – but I know he knows. Little things, like
turning Toad's music down even though I haven't said anything, or casually
mentioning he needs to go re-stock the first aid kit even though the only thing
missing is the painkillers I keep downing like candy.

I am not going to make a big deal out of this. I've dealt
with it my whole life – and the last thing I want is to see Toad or Fred look at me with pity. I am the leader of this little group
of social outcasts – I am responsible for them, not the other way around. Besides,
it's not a big deal. After all, everyone gets headaches.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Pietro silently watched their fierce leader lay back against
the couch, resting his head against a soft pillow – one of the few that hadn't
been slimed by Toad at one point or another – and closed his eyes. His face was
blank, but Pietro glanced over towards the bathroom Lance had just exited. The
light was off, but Pietro knew if he went in there and checked, he'd find the
bottle of painkillers was almost empty again. He made a mental note to pick
some up from the store in between classes the next day.

A crash sounded from the kitchen, and suddenly Todd wobbled
into the room, one hand clapped to his head. Pietro raised an eyebrow.

"Toad? What'ja do this time?"

"Blob's makin' a mess that he thinks will turn into a cake,"
Todd said woozily, a shaky grin on his face. "I tried to jump through and
landed on a splatter that I think used to be an egg. Or several eggs. I skidded
headfirst into the wall. Man, my head is killing me!"

Pietro glanced over at the couch and saw Lance stand up and
head for the bathroom. After a few seconds, he returned with a glass of water
and two Advil's in his hand.

Pietro was sure he heard a 'neither can I' come from Lance's
direction but he couldn't be sure.

_____________________________________________________________________

The End

_____________________________________________________________________

My first X-Evo fic!
^^ I'm so proud. Incidentally, as a migraine-sufferer, I speak from profound
experience, and the above incorporated that experience. ^^

Anyway, I'm new to the Evo world
(one I thought I'd never enter, seeing as I'm a Marvel purist at heart –
normally) but already I can tell I'm going to be a Lance/Pietro gal. And I love
Toad – he's so adorable! Strange to say that about someone who eats flies and
smells like a swamp but what the hey…

Anyway, review please? Unless of course you don't WANT
anymore. ^^ I can take a hint.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.